


hanging on the words you say

by Cirkne



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, since u kno its michael, theyre making love potions and im predictable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 18:14:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11236491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cirkne/pseuds/Cirkne
Summary: Michael's just always been there.





	hanging on the words you say

As much as Jeremy loves Christine he has to admit that being paired together in potion’s class was not the best thing for them. He’s never been good at things that involve paying attention to detail and Christine knows too much about herbs to keep focused and not go off on tangents. 

He keeps her grounded as much as he can but he’s never been good at interrupting her which means he spends most of the class listening to her explain the differences between roses and rose haws and their amortentia potion kind of goes to shit, really. 

Jake’s the first one to laugh, out loud, when all it does is puff out smoke in Jeremy’s face but his house joins promptly, taking any excuse to snicker at a rival house. Christine’s the only one to look at all apologetic though she’s smiling too as she hands him a handkerchief to wipe away sooth from his brows and Jeremy fights the urge to glare at all of them. God, he hates having classes with gryffindors.

“Sorry, Jeremy,” Christine says, sheepishly. “I think we let it brew too long.” Around them, the students are starting to lean over their own cauldrons. Most of them look shy, suddenly and Jeremy rubs at his eyes, pokes their cauldron to let it swing a little over the now dead fire. He’s curious, of course, but he doesn’t think it’d smell like anything more than home if they had done it correctly. He’s not really in love with anyone currently. Last year, maybe, the scent would have reminded him of lilacs and honey - the strange mixture of Christine’s shampoo and body wash but he got over her on their first date when she told him she didn’t like mint and he realized that he’d kind of created her in his head to be someone she really wasn’t. 

He crunches up Christine’s handkerchief in his hand and shoves it in his pocket before they start cleaning up their work space. Once they get out he can find Michael and complain to him while Michael makes fun of him. He won’t have any trouble in potions, of course, since he gets to take the class with ravenclaws. _Lucky bastard._

“Christine, noodle arms, c’mere,” Jake calls them pulling Jeremy out of his quiet loathing for his best friend. He stopped commenting on the awful nickname by now but he still glares at him as he and Christine walk over to Jake. “Smell it,” Jake says motioning to his perfectly made potion, still emitting pink puffy hearts and Jeremy thinks about how Michael would find Jake’s words funny because of some internet joke he’s tried showing Jeremy a million times. Jeremy doesn’t get it, still, writes it off as one of the many muggle-born things that don’t make sense to him. 

Christine pops a heart with the tip of her finger and grins leaning over to take in the smell.

“Smells like freshly cut grass and the color yellow and-” she frowns, then, turns to look at Jake with a raised eyebrow. “A theater lobby?” she asks, sort of, moves away from the cauldron.

“Yeah mine doesn’t make sense either,” Jake tells her, shrugging. “Smells like home and lakes. I don’t know what significance--” Jeremy stops listening to move closer to the potion. He can’t feel it, at first and then it explodes all at once: popcorn, green tea and-

“What is it, Jeremy?” Christine asks, suddenly standing next to him, smiling, looking way happier to find out than Jeremy is. He swallows, straightens up and whispers, a little horrified:

“ _Weed,_ ”

*

He realizes later, as Michael’s leaning over him to hit Rich on the arm for saying that he’s the only cool hufflepuff in their school, that he should have realized this much earlier. They’re sitting under a tree in the school yard, Christine’s head in Rich’s lap, knees bent, feet under Jeremy’s thigh and he thinks that it’s obvious now how he mistook his feelings for Michael as his feelings for her. Michael’s just always been there, warm and smiling, teaching Jeremy about muggle things and teasing him into oblivion.

“Fine, fine!” Rich laughs trying to avoid Michael’s hands without pushing Christine off on the grass. “You’re cool too, Michael, I promise!” 

“And don’t forget it,” Michael jokes pulling away to settle back how he was, shoulder pressed to Jeremy’s. He smells like weed now, too, changed into his muggle clothes. _I refuse to give your worst rivals the best color, Jeremy. I’ll wear red all I want_.

“You reek of weed,” Jeremy says before he can really think about it and Michael turns to frown at him.

“Always do, wizard police, it’s called dealing with anxiety. Until someone invents a spell for that you’ll have to make friends with my muggle remedies.”

“It’s giving me a headache,” Jeremy lies, bites the inside of his lip and breathes out. He _knows_ Michael, Michael will offer to change or take a shower or something and then he’ll smell like the awful raspberry shampoo he uses that he smells especially of in summer when they barely see each other and Jeremy hates it, really, so he shakes his head and says: “Sorry, it’s probably not that. I think I have a headache from potion’s class and I’m tired.”

“Alright, buddy,” Michael says, his voice soft in a millisecond. “You wanna go back to the dorms and take a nap before dinner? Or take a nap here? Rich will protect you from any lake monsters,” he says, taking Jeremy’s wrist in his hand to run his thumb over Jeremy’s skin. 

“Absolutely will,” Rich pipes up, happy. He probably flexes, too but Jeremy’s not looking at him, eyes focused on Michael’s fingers. It’s making his chest hurt, a little and he can’t believe he didn’t notice this for so long. 

“I think I’m good here,” Jeremy answers, closes his eyes and inhales. He’ll just have to ignore it and hope it passes even though when he thinks about it, it’s probably been like this since the end of their first year here when Michael had fallen asleep on him on their train home. He’s _screwed_ , isn’t he?

*

There’s a part of him, the awful, hopeful part of him that wonders if maybe Michael feels the same way too. If maybe Michael will see him after he’s made amortentia and come to the same realization Jeremy did yesterday. 

That is, because the universe decided it hated him long ago, not the case. Sitting under the oak tree, Michael only lifts his head to look at Jeremy for a second to greet him and then he’s back to whatever he was talking about with Rich. No long time coming revelations there, then. 

Once he sits down, though, on the other side of Rich, the boy turns to look at him.

“What were yours?” he asks, grinning, hiding Michael from sight. Jeremy feels his stomach twists and he blinks, slowly, tries to think of a lie.

“Mine?” he asks like he doesn’t know exactly what Rich is talking about. Rich, like the awful, horrible, mean friend he is, rolls his eyes.

“Your scents, beanpole,” he answers. “What did the love potion smell like to you?” Jeremy swallows, looks at Michael looking at him over Rich’s shoulder and then at the grass by their feet.

“I don’t remember,” he lies. Winces. Hates himself, really. Can feel Rich’s eyes on him.

“Right,” Rich says, draws out the “i” but thankfully doesn’t ask further. Instead, he starts talking about his own. “Mine were freshly baked bread and pomegranates and the ocean. How cool is that? Michael here just smelled-” air quotes “home that’s _boring_. Your best friend is boring.”

“You know me, Rich,” Michael laughs. “The person you fall in love with will be way cooler than the person I fall in love with.”

Jeremy thinks about drowning himself in the bath or flying to Michael’s house and spending so long there that he smells like his home. Drowning himself is probably the better option.

*

“You’ve been acting weird,” Michael tells him, poking Jeremy in the ribs on the stairs of the astronomy tower. Technically they’re not supposed to be here but it’s after dinner so no one’s going to catch them and Michael likes it here. Says seeing the stars makes him miss home a little less. He’s also smoking and although he has a doctor’s note and shit it’s still a muggle thing so he tries not to do it where people can see him. 

“I’m just tired,” Jeremy answers, almost on instinct now but it doesn’t make the worried look on Michael’s face go away.

“You keep saying that but I know you, buddy. Tell me what’s really wrong before I threaten you with the hundreds of embarrassing things I know about you.” He takes a drag of his joint. Jeremy turns to look at him, smiles. He always looks different here. Softer. Quieter. His hair a mess by now and his features more relaxed. His eyes, somehow, lighter in the dark, reflecting the light emitting from Jeremy’s wand. Jeremy tries to think back to how many times they’ve sat here like this, talking about everything they could think of and how he could never look away yet never knew why.

Michael opens his mouth to let the leftover smoke escape his lips and Jeremy closes his eyes. This whole situation is suddenly really funny to him and he snorts, turns away from Michael and runs his hands down his face, leaving them to rest on his lips. When he opens his eyes Michael is watching him.

“I didn’t forget what amortentia smelled like,” he says, muffled by his own fingers, too afraid to say the words clearly.

“Yeah,” Michael tells him, a smile heard in his voice. “I kind of got that. You’re a shit liar, Jeremy.” He takes another drag. Longer, this time. Let’s the end of his joint go out, drops his arm to his side.

“I thought-” Jeremy starts and stops, frowns down at the stairs. “You didn’t ask.”

“I figured it reminded you of Christine or another girl that’s way too good for you,” Michael tells him and grins when Jeremy moves his hands away from his face to hit Michael’s thigh.

“Shut it,” he says and Michael sticks his tongue out at him, bumps Jeremy’s shoulder with his.

“Mine didn’t smell like home,” Michael whispers when silence settles between them again. “Or well it did but not my house kind of home. You know. More like a person kind of home. I just didn’t want to tell Rich because I knew he’d get it right away. Does that make any sense?”

“Yeah,” Jeremy breathes out, for a second wonders if he’ll regret his next words: “What did it smell like?” There’s a long pause and Jeremy can hear his heart in his chest, feel it in his wrists.

“You,” Michael answers finally, almost inaudible over their breathing.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“No!” Jeremy says, way too loud for how quiet their conversation’s been. “I mean- fuck, sorry. I just- you didn’t act any different so I-” he turns to look at Michael, his eyes earnest and something like nervousness behind them, running over Jeremy’s features, like he’s looking for something. “I’m surprised, that’s all.”

“I wasn’t,” Michael breathes out, almost like laughter. “I’ve known since we were twelve. I was expecting it, really.”

“You’re smarter than me,” Jeremy admits, lifts his hand to rest on Michael’s shoulder, speaks again before Michael can ask what he’s doing. “I didn’t realize until amortentia smelled like _weed_ of all things, god, Michael, what are you doing to me?” but his words come out soft, happy and he moves his hand to the back of Michael’s neck and Michael laughs, presses his lips to Jeremy’s.

**Author's Note:**

> this is mostly the bmc gcs fault
> 
> im @ safebird on tumblr if u wanna come yell at me
> 
> title from dive by ed sheeran even tho it has nothing to do with the fic


End file.
